


Where did you get that?

by smaragdbird



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29317107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/pseuds/smaragdbird
Summary: Fitzjames wants to show Stanley his idea for his Carnivale costume
Relationships: James Fitzjames/Stephen S. Stanley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2021





	Where did you get that?

Fitzjames was shifting from one foot to the other, waiting for the door to open. Stanley’s cabin held little in the way of distraction eh he was too nervous to start reading one of the books.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the wooden door slid aside and Stanley stepped in. He had to bow his head a little to avoid hitting it on the doorframe and didn’t get a proper look at Fitzjames until he was already inside.

His lips parted in surprised when he took in Fitzjames’ attire, the long, velvet skirt falling to his ankles, the bodice tight around his chest, the exposed line of his shoulders and neck.

Fitzjames held his head high, refusing to give in his anxiety as he felt Stanley’s eyes rake over his body.

“Well, what do you think?” He asked when he couldn’t stand the silene anymore.

“I think you’re in the wrong cabin, miss”, Stanley replied, a light appearing in his eyes that Fitzjames hadn’t seen in too long.

“Perhaps I require your attention?” he never knew what to do with his hands. No wonder women carried around fans and such.

“Unchaperoned?” Stanley asked, standing right in front of Fitzjames, drawing out the two inches he had one him.

“Why, are you saying a lady isn’t safe in your company?” Fitzjames gave him a coquettish look from under his lashes. While demurely lowering his head Two could exploit the height difference between them. 

Stanley took his chin between his fingers and tilted his head back up. “A lady would be.”

Fitzjames opened his mouth to let out a mock-gasp at the insult but without warning, Stanley grabbed his hip and spun him around so that his back was flush against Stanley’s chest. One arm was across his torso, holding him in place while the other hand cupped his half-hard cock through the velvet skirt. He had been excited for Stanley’s return.

“But you don’t want to be a ‘lady’ do you?” Stanley’s whispered harshly into his ear, lips caressing the shell.

“You seem to know very well what I want, Doctor”, Fitzjames replied, turning his head towards him in hopes of a kiss, but Stanley had other ideas. Just as suddenly as before, Stanley pushed him forwards. Fitzjames stumbled and caught himself with both hands on the desk. When he tried to get up again, Stanley’s hands on his hips stopped him.

He moved behind him and Fitzjames released a slow, shuddering breath when he felt Stanley’s hands on his bare calves, pushing up the dress as he went, exposing his legs. He flipped the hem of the skirt over Fitzjames’ waist, baring his arse as well. 

The idea that Stanley would just bend him over his desk and fuck him, set his blood on fire. He heard clothes rustle, a bottle being uncorked, and then the head of Stanley’s cock was nudging against his hole. Not even Stanley could keep his composure in such a moment. He was breathing harshly as he pressed inside though ever circumspect of their surroundings. 

The slick slide of a hard cock pushing inside, Stanley’s hands on his waist, keeping him where he was, there were no words to describe it properly. Normally, Stanley used his extensive knowledge about the human body to drive Fitzjames insane, taking it so slow that he’d beg, but not tonight. 

No, tonight Stanley was fucking him as if he was some two-penny whore barely worth the coins tossed at their feet, focused only on his own pleasure. The novelty made it exciting, his cock standing hard despite the lack of effort on Stanley’s part, and his own inability to do anything about it.

A particularly hard thrust forced him down on his elbows, angling his hips in a different way that was better than before not quite enough to push him to the edge. 

Above him, Stanley inhaled sharply as he froze and came. Fitzjames thought he could feel it, hot and wet. His own release felt like an itch that he couldn’t scratch, frustrating and yet it heightened every sensation. The drag of Stanley’s trousers against his bare legs; the strength in his hands on Fitzjames’ hips; the sound of his breaths, everything about Stanley seemed to elicit little pinpricks of pleasure that pushed him closer but not over the edge.

When Stanley pulled out, he pulled the skirt back as if he was doing Fitzjames a favour.

“Haven’t you forgotten something?” Fitzjames asked, turning around to show here his cock left a notable tent in the front of the dress. 

There was no emotion in Stanley’s expression when he crowded Fitzjames against the desk and grabbed his cock through the dress, using the fabric of the skirt to help him jerk Fitzjames off. The drag of the fabric against the sensitive skin inside the inescapably tight grip Stanley had one him, was enough to make him come. He pitched forward, hiding his face in Stanley’s chest as he spurted into the dress, stifling his moan against the coarse wool of Stanley’s jacket.

“Better?” Stanley asked, even the slight flush to his cheeks didn’t soften the sternness of his face.

“Well, the dress is ruined”, Fitzjames said somewhat mournfully. He had hoped to wear it to Carnivale, but not like this. 

“Where did you even get that?” Stanley asked, taking off his jacket and draping it over the back of the chair.

“The costume trunk”, Fitzjames replied, still catching his breath, perched against the edge of the desk.

“For Carnivale? Absolutely not.” 

“What makes you think it’s up to you?” Fitzjames replied, giving him a challenging look. 

Stanley abandoned his undressing and leaned over him, his lips brushing Fitzjames’ ear when he whispered, “What makes you think I would allow another man to see what you look like in a dress?” 

“Plenty of men already have”, Fitzjames replied just to see the flash of possessiveness in Stanley’s eyes. 

“But not the men out there.” 

There was something dark in his voice, like warning not to cross him, that sent a thrill down Fitzjames’ spine.

“Besides the collar is too open”, to bring weight to his words, Stanley traced the line of it with his fingers, causing Fitzjames’ skin to break out in goosebumps. “As your physician I have to take care of you, and if you expose yourself like this, you’ll catch your death out there on the ice. I won’t let that happen.”

“What is your solution, doctor?” Fitzjames looked at him from under his lashes. The dim light from the single lit candle sharpened the lines of Stanley’s face and made him look even more imposing. 

“Take it off.”

“That’ll be quite the outfit.” Again there was something in Stanley’s eyes that made him feel like he was playing with fire. Though he did as he was told. “Better?”

As when he had come in, Stanley raked his eyes over Fitzjames from the bottom to the top. His eyes lingered for a moment on the scars on his arm and chest as they always did. 

“Get under the covers before you catch a cold.”

Stanley resumed his undressing while Fitzjames burrowed into the blankets. He rarely stayed the night. It was too liable to get them caught, though as the captain of ship, he had more leeway these days.

It was uncomfortable for either of them to sleep in the bunks, but trying to fit both of them into one was downright ludicrous, though being plastered skin to skin with Stanley made up for the lack of space to move in Fitzjames’ mind.

“What costume do you have in mind?” He asked, half draped over Stanley.

“MacDonald suggested the ships’ surgeons should go for a theme”, Stanley said in a tone that conveyed exactly how much he wanted to poison his colleague for making the suggestion.

“You’re not going to tell me what it is?” Fitzjames pouted.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“As long as you promise me that it’s not a dress.”

**Author's Note:**

> As if I wouldn't exploit that Alistair Petrie has a whole two inches on Tobias Menzies. Poor guy must have bumped into everything on set. And then they killed his character off just before starting to film outside.
> 
> Also, look, Stanley might be a jerkass but og!Fitzjames called him 'good looking' in his letters and I will milk history for all it can give me


End file.
